Under the walls of Monterey <br />At daybreak the bugles began to play, <br />Victor Galbraith! <br />In the mist of the morning damp and gray, <br />These were the words they seemed to say: <br />'Come forth to thy death, <br />Victor Galbraith!' <br /> <br />Forth he came, with a martial tread; <br />Firm was his step, erect his head; <br />Victor Galbraith, <br />He who so well the bugle played, <br />Could not mistake the words it said: <br />'Come forth to thy death, <br />Victor Galbraith!' <br /> <br />He looked at the earth, he looked at the sky, <br />He looked at the files of musketry, <br />Victor Galbraith! <br />And he said, with a steady voice and eye, <br />'Take good aim; I am ready to die!' <br />Thus challenges death <br />Victor Galbraith. <br /> <br />Twelve fiery tongues flashed straight and red, <br />Six leaden balls on their errand sped; <br />Victor Galbraith <br />Falls to the ground, but he is not dead; <br />His name was not stamped on those balls of lead, <br />And they only scath <br />Victor Galbraith. <br /> <br />Three balls are in his breast and brain, <br />But he rises out of the dust again, <br />Victor Galbraith! <br />The water he drinks has a bloody stain; <br />'O kill me, and put me out of my pain!' <br />In his agony prayeth <br />Victor Galbraith. <br /> <br />Forth dart once more those tongues of flame, <br />And the bugler has died a death of shame, <br />Victor Galbraith! <br />His soul has gone back to whence it came, <br />And no one answers to the name, <br />When the Sergeant saith, <br />'Victor Galbraith!' <br /> <br />Under the walls of Monterey <br />By night a bugle is heard to play, <br />Victor Galbraith! <br />Through the mist of the valley damp and gray <br />The sentinels hear the sound, and say, <br />'That is the wraith <br />Of Victor Galbraith!'<br /><br />Henry Wadsworth Longfellow<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/victor-galbraith-birds-of-passage-flight-the-first/
